


Moving On

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE, M/M, community: hd-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-25
Updated: 2008-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 23:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7594045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Malfoys are finally able to return to the Manor. Harry is left with a bit of a conundrum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** EWE, AU-ish. Minor fluff.  
>  **Challenge:** For asnowyowl — Keywords: sugarquill, feather, vermin — Dialogue: “Yes,  
>  but I didn't expect you'd sleep with my son.”  
>  **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR’s, not mine.

The Malfoys were expected to return home months ago.   
  
At least that was the plan before the Aurors made that ghastly discovery in the Manor’s kitchen and dungeon rooms.   
  
Rats and mice were found scurrying about by the hundreds, and thus far no spell or poison has been able to get rid of them.  
  
So following the Aurors’ instructions and Harry Potter’s begrudging invitation, the three Malfoys still remain at Grimmauld Place today.  
  
The atmosphere in the old house was more than a little strained in the beginning, especially when the place was still being used as Order Headquarters.  
  
Once the Order had relocated to another building, their own in Central London, things became more relaxed.  
  
Lucius and Narcissa started going out again, attended dinner parties with acquaintances, took trips to the wizarding theatre…   
  
Draco, on the other hand, stayed in. He preferred reading and much to Harry’s astonishment, also seemed to enjoy watching television.   
  
Even more surprising than that, though, was the fact that somehow, in the middle of the post-war turmoil, the two young men had managed to become… something akin to friends.  
  
It was a development that pleased Harry a great deal more than he thought it might, and things were about to improve even further.  
  
Harry smiles. He remembers that night quite clearly.  
  
He went into the living room to find Draco Malfoy sitting on the sofa, chewing on a sugar quill and quite enthralled by some film.   
  
This, Harry thought, was one of those things that needed to be seen to be believed. “Hey,” he said. “What are you watching?”  
  
Draco turned to him and began to describe the plot in such an engaging way he made Harry smile.   
  
Harry had never seen Draco—he’d long stopped calling the boy ‘Malfoy’ in his mind—so unguarded and carefree. It was an enchanting sight.  
  
Draco patted the empty space next to him on the couch, gesturing to Harry to have a seat, and said, “You can still catch the ending if you’d like.”  
  
Harry nodded, and sat down.   
  
Draco held out the bag of sweets, and as Harry reached out to dive in, his fingers accidentally brushed Draco’s. A strange thrill, almost like electricity, went through him and judging from the way Draco quickly averted his eyes and looked down at the floor—a shy gesture Harry never would have expected—it seemed he wasn’t the only one who’d felt it.  
  
They leaned back against the sofa cushions, their shoulders touching, and watched the rest of the plot unfold.  
  
The film ended, the eleven o’clock news came on, and still neither boy moved.  
  
After what felt like a lifetime but couldn’t have been more than five, perhaps ten minutes, Draco cleared his throat.  
  
Harry frowned. He turned to face him, but before he could ask what was wrong, Draco closed the distance between them and kissed him softly on the lips.   
  
Looking back, Harry’s quite certain more would have happened that night, if Narcissa and Lucius hadn’t got back so soon.  
  
At the sound of the front door opening, the boys on the sofa sprang apart.   
  
Draco gave an apologetic smile, got up, ruffled Harry’s hair, and went out into the hallway to greet his parents.  
  
Harry grins at the memory. There have been many kisses after that, and more recently, wonderful nights spent in Draco’s room.  
  
Harry never imagined he could be so happy with anyone, not after the painful relationships with first Cho and then Ginny. Something about those felt forced and wrong, but this…  
  
This feels like it might last forever, and it fills him with hope for a future he’d almost stopped believing in.  
  
“Ah, there you are,” a voice says, snapping him back to the present.   
  
He turns around to find Narcissa Malfoy standing there.  
  
“Might I have a word, Harry?”  
  
“Yes, of course.”  
  
They move towards the table and she wastes no time getting to the point. “You may be glad to learn the Manor has finally been cleared of all vermin.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry says. “That’s good.”  
  
“Indeed. It was some ancient curse, apparently. We suspect Bella may have cast it; some petty act of revenge in case any of us were to ever change our allegiance. Quite fitting for her final _tour de force_ , wouldn’t you say?”  
  
“Um, yeah.”  
  
“If all goes well, we can return next week. Once all”—just for a second, she scrunches up her face in disgust—“traces of those… _creatures_ are gone.”  
  
Harry can’t come up with any profound response, so he only nods, while at the back of his mind, all he can think about is Draco.  
  
What if he goes back to Wiltshire, just like that? Granted, the two of them have become pretty close, but it isn’t something they’ve actually discussed. They haven’t declared their undying love or done anything equally… _girly_. The fact of the matter is Harry has no idea where he stands with Draco, and the thought of him leaving is quite painful.  
  
Harry looks down at the feather that’s lying on the table. Luna sent it to him as a keepsake from the Brazilian Amazon. She’s having a great time there with Neville, doing research for an article on rare species of birds.   
  
Harry looks up again and meets Narcissa’s eyes. They’re full of questions.   
  
“All right,” he finally says, and adds, for lack of anything more eloquent—Hermione was always so much better at these things, “I, um, take it your stay here has been adequate?”  
  
Narcissa smiles sweetly—a little too sweetly to Harry’s liking, and replies in a dry tone, “Yes, but I didn't expect you'd sleep with my son.”  
  
Harry gulps. He can feel the blush spreading from the back of his neck, all over his face, right up to the roots of his hair.  
  
“Oh dear.” She smiles again, and he gets the impression she might start giggling any minute. “Draco was right about you; you are entirely too much fun to tease.”  
  
“W-What?” Harry stammers. His heart is racing. He doesn’t understand what’s going on. Is the woman mocking him? Has all this just been some kind of Malfoy trick?  
  
Narcissa sighs, looking less amused again. “And there I was, trying to broach the topic carefully.”  
  
Harry blinks. “S-So Draco has told you about our—about us?”  
  
She shakes her head. “No. Not as such. I’m his mother, Harry. Mothers just _know_ these things.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry mutters dumbly.  
  
“Regardless, what I wanted to tell you is that if you ever wish to spend time with Draco at the Manor you would, of course, be most welcome.”  
  
“Thank you,” Harry says, and before the silence gets too long or turns too loaded, he blurts out, “Does he know yet? About the… um, vermin, I mean?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Right.” Harry jumps up from his chair. “I’d er—best go see him, then. Excuse me, Mrs Malfoy.”  
  
Narcissa nods. She smiles to herself as Harry bolts up the stairs.  
  
  
  
****  
  
  
  
He knocks once and all but storms into the room when he hears the softly spoken “Come in.”  
  
Draco is standing near the window. His arms are crossed, and his gaze is fixated on something in the unkempt garden.   
  
Harry wonders what he might be thinking and how he feels about leaving. He ‘s probably happy to be able to go home after all this time; who wouldn’t be?   
  
“Draco?” he ventures carefully.  
  
The young man by the window turns around and smiles. “Potter.”  
  
“I, um…” Harry takes a deep breath. “Your mum told me you’ll be going back to the Manor soon.”  
  
Draco nods. “That’s right. The ship is no longer sinking, and yet the rats have left.”   
  
The words are uttered dryly, but Harry can’t help noticing their underlying tension. He knows Draco too well by now. “As early as next week, she said,” he continues, deciding he might as well get this over with.  
  
“Yes. Such is Mother’s plan.”  
  
“Right. She, er—“ Harry takes a few steps closer, until he’s standing right in front of his… close friend? Lover? Boyfriend? Buggered if he knows which. “She also stated I’d be welcome at the Manor if I ever wanted to come and visit.”  
  
“Yes,” Draco replies with a small smile. “Of course you would be. Is that such a shocking revelation then?”  
  
“Um. No.” Harry reaches across the small space between them and takes Draco’s hand. “But the thing is… Actually, I was wondering if…”  
  
“What?”  
  
Harry takes a deep breath. “The thing is: this place is huge and I’ll be here on my own anyway, and you and me, we seem to be… getting along rather well lately… er… I mean…”  
  
Draco grins. “I think I know what you mean.”  
  
“Right. So I was wondering if, maybe, would you consider staying on here?”  
  
Draco’s eyes widen. “Live with you, you mean?” he says slowly.  
  
“Of course you’d still have you own room and I wouldn’t expect you to—“ Harry clears his throat that feels dry like sandpaper all of a sudden. “I wouldn’t get in your way, is what I mean to say…” He shakes his head and looks down at his trainers. “And that wasn’t supposed to rhyme.”  
  
Draco chuckles, despite himself. He links his fingers with Harry’s and replies softly, “Mother was looking forward to having my room and study redecorated. I expect she might be a little disappointed if I didn’t go home.”  
  
Harry’s heart sinks. “Oh.”  
  
“But I suppose if we promise to visit regularly and perhaps spend Christmas in Wiltshire…”  
  
“Christmas,” Harry parrots.  
  
“It’s only a few months away, you know. Time flies.”  
  
Harry looks up to meet Draco’s gaze. Grey eyes are shining at him, twinkling with what looks like amusement. Harry frowns.  
  
“That was a ‘yes’, in case you missed it, Potter. I must admit I’ve grown quite used to you, and I’m not altogether sure I could still sleep without your smothering presence shoving me all the way to the edge of the bed every night.”  
  
“Hey! I don’t shove you—“ Harry begins, but then bursts out laughing, relieved beyond words.  
  
“You realise we’ll have to do something about this place as well, though; make look it a bit more presentable and cheerful. Perhaps those decorators Mother has contacted can help, and—”  
  
“Draco?”   
  
“Hm?”   
  
Harry grins, wraps his arms around his new housemate, and stops any further rambling with a thorough kiss.


End file.
